


Nightmare

by MUSEquera



Category: Muse
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, M/M, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 16:38:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/889485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MUSEquera/pseuds/MUSEquera





	Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chess_boxing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chess_boxing/gifts), [@NeedsmoreMuse](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%40NeedsmoreMuse).



He holds me while I sleep. I can feel the protective circle of his arms even in the grip of my nightmares as I thrash awake with a whimper. He knows what's coming next, his hands already soothing my shaking limbs before the sobs start. I cling to him, his body enveloping mine, solid and reassuring. 

My ragged breath slows down, even as tears continue to pool in my eyes, his silent touch, his strong, gentle hands holding me to him, bring me back from the edge of the black abyss that lurks in my dreams. He does not shush me or gentle me with whispered platitudes, the steady 'thump, thump, thump' of his heartbeat in my ear and the strong, woodsy scent of his skin all around me more comforting than any words.

He lets me be, lets me recover at my own pace, patient and unrushed, his quiet strength the bedrock that anchors me. It is only when my heart slows under his hand and I sigh into his chest that he loosens his hold on me, brushing sweat-soaked hair off my face to kiss my forehead with the gentleness and tenderness that are innate to him. 

He smiles at me, and it feels as if a thousand suns have risen over the horizon to bathe me with their light, relegating the nightmare to the dark recesses of my mind. "Better?” he asks, eyes soft and full of warmth, full lips moving to brush my temple, and I nod, because his smile, his presence, the reality of his love, makes everything better. 

I bring my hand to his face, whispering, "Thank you." He holds it captive with his and leans into it, eyes fluttering closed with a soft smile, his stubble rough on my skin as he brings my hand to his lips to kiss my palm, a barely there brush of soft lips on sensitive skin that still manages to make my breath hitch, my toes curling against his shins.

He looks at me then, his eyes both question and promise, the desire burning in mine answer to both. With infinite gentleness, he lays me down on my back and hovers over me to kiss my lips, saying, "Close your eyes, my love." I can't deny him anything, and my eyes close of their own accord, the trust between us absolute and unconditional. 

I let myself relax, my body seeming to sink deeper into the mattress with every breath, readying myself for him, determined not to let the lingering effects of the nightmare come between us. I wait patiently, knowing without having to look that his eyes are on me, drinking me in, caressing my body, and my breath quickens in anticipation.

When it finally comes, his touch is light, fingertips just barely skimming my neck, yet I arch under it, my lips parting in a silent exhale of breath. I feel the absence of his fingers like an physical ache, and I can't help the whimper that escapes me, my whole body breaking out in goosebumps.

I cry out in surprise as his lips alight on the dip of my left hip, a fleeting contact that vanishes almost before it registers, leaving me yearning for more, panting with needing him. When his fingers brush my nipple next, I moan with the burning desire he sparks in me, and my hands fist in the sheets in my struggle to remain still, when all I want is to pull him to me and beg him to fill me until I scream.

"Shhhhh," his breath flutters across my skin as he whispers in my ear, "breathe, love, slow down, let me do this for you." I nod at his quiet assertiveness and take a deep breath, letting it out slowly, a kiss to the sensitive spot just below my ear my reward, "Good boy.” I smile, reining myself in, focusing my whole being on the here and now, on him, making my body flop passively, allowing his gentle hands to arrange it as he pleases.

It is sweet torture, this deliberate, unhurried mapping of my body with hands and lips, as if he were discovering it for the first time, every inch of my skin explored, tasted, cherished, a sense of wonder to every light touch, every lingering kiss. It is unbelievably arousing, a slow burn spreading under my skin wherever he touches me, yet utterly soothing at the same time.

I find myself floating into a trance-like state, flying untethered, warm and dreamy and safe, basking in the deluge of endorphins, humming in delight at his gift of pleasure, watching from outside my body in contented fascination as it lights up like a constellation in response to his touch.

He is my drug of choice, this gentle giant of a man who chooses to share his life with me, who loves me despite all my faults and accepts me for who I am. Friend before lover, confidant, partner, refuge, joy and safety. He is everything to me, and I love him with everything that I am.

"I love you." His words break through my addled senses, and my eyes open slowly. Somehow I'm on my back again, his body covering mine, solid and heavy, reassuring. He waits patiently until my eyes focus on his before he says it again, "I love you." 

My heart fills to flooding with love for him, and I'm sure my eyes are bright with tears as I swallow the lump in my throat to whisper, "I lov..." Before I can finish, his lips are on mine, swallowing my words, his hands fisting in hair I've allowed to grow longer than is comfortable because he likes it that way. 

He is done with slow and gentle. His kiss sizzles through me like a wildfire, his hunger feeding mine until we are nothing but mouths sucking and tongues twisting and teeth biting with such ferocious intensity that we are in danger of finishing this before it even starts. 

We break apart, his forehead resting on mine and his hands framing my face, while mine caress the hard muscles bunching on his back. In this moment of stillness, we breathe one another's panted breaths, our eyes dark and heavy with our love and desire for one another, a need that will not be denied shining bright in them, untarnished by habit.

"How do you want me?" I ask breathlessly, and there is an instant spark of mischief in his eyes as he answers, his slow crooked smile twisting a corner of his perfect lips, "Any way I can get you." I giggle as he kisses his way into the crook of my neck, his chuckles muffled against my skin, and for about the millionth time I wonder how on earth I got so lucky.

Without warning, his arms close tight around me, and I gasp as he rolls us onto our sides, hitching me up until my leg is over his hip, his hard cock pressing eagerly between my arsecheeks, mine snugly tucked against his belly. 

He smiles at me then, one hand caressing my thigh, the other stroking the back of my neck, "Is this ok?" Wrapping my arms loosely around his neck, I clench my gluts and arch against him, grinning at his hissed curse, "Mmmm, more than ok." 

"Imp!" he growls, slapping my arse, and laughs when I wriggle and hum in appreciation and kiss his nose, retaliating with the expected, "Troll!" He grins at me, eyes sparkling with life and joy and, before I know what's going on, I'm engulfed in one of his wonderful bear hugs, while he exclaims, "God, I love you." against my hair.

I melt in the circle of his arms as his mouth seeks mine again in a kiss that is less frantic, but somehow deeper, lips moving in perfect harmony, tongues delicately tasting and exploring. Hands roam freely while our bodies rock together to find their own rhythm, swiftly rekindling arousal, until my body feels as taut as a bowstring, humming with the strain of my need for him.

With perfect timing, he brings his hand to my mouth, stroking my lips until they part. In my eagerness, I hold onto his wrist with both hands, keeping it still as I indulge in a leisurely fellatio of his fingers, looking up at him from under hooded eyes. 

"You filthy little thing," he smiles as he leans around his hand to kiss the corner of my mouth, "you'd be at it all day if I let you, wouldn't you?” I nod, holding tighter to his wrist and taking his fingers as deep as I can, giving them an extra thorough swirl of my tongue.

With a laugh, he peels my fingers off his wrist and gently retrieves his hand. I make a grab for it, only to find both my wrists caught in the vice of his other hand as he says mock-sternly, "That's enough, love, they can't get any wetter than they are..." Leaning in to kiss my pout, he goes on, his voice deep and husky, "...and I'd like to put that lovely saliva of yours to good use." 

Without missing a beat, his arms are once again around me and I moan shamelessly as his fingers slide wetly between my arsecheeks to circle my hole, and his mouth takes possession of mine, saying, "Now, be a good boy and let me do this properly."

He delights in the opening of my body, taking his time to prepare me in his tender, careful way, stretching me with slow deliberation, disregarding my mewling pleas to hurry up and just take me. I often think it is his favourite part of our lovemaking, this gradual unraveling of me while he kisses me as if I'm the most precious thing in the universe.

By the time he's done, I'm wide open for him, liquid with pleasure and aching with need, nothing but a mass of sparking nerve endings. I whine at the empty sensation as his fingers leave my body, my flesh fluttering at the loss, but they are soon replaced by his dripping cockhead, and I hiss at the heat of it pressing against my sensitised skin.

Holding my hips steady with his hands, he enters me in a slow steady motion, letting me feel every tiny increment of stretch, every glorious millimetre of his smooth heat penetrating me, filling me, making me feel complete. I cry out, and moan, and scream his name. I hold onto him so hard that I know there will be bruises on his arms in the morning. I bury my face in his neck and drown in his scent.

He whispers my name like an invocation, his hands leaving my hips to wrap around my body, holding us still in an instant of flawless, blissful connection, and I cling to him like a lost child, not even breathing for fear that it will break this perfect moment. After a few heartbeats, his lips brush my hair, his hand gently stroking the back of my neck, and I lift my head off his shoulder, my eyes seeking his in response to his silent plea.

The love shining out of his eyes pierces my heart. It is something I will never get used to, never will take for granted, the sublime, dizzying wonder that is being loved by him. He smiles that awesome warm smile of his, saying, "Ready, my love?” I nod eagerly—for him, I will always be ready—and he brings his lips to mine as he starts moving, silencing my joyous scream at pleasure so intense it's almost pain.

He is generous with his body, always seeming to know what I need, attentive to every sound I make, every last twitch of my body, every hitched breath I take, intent only on my pleasure. He loves me the way he lives his life, honestly, selflessly, his uncomplicated, undemanding love compelling fierce, boundless love in return. 

We move together as one a in silent slow dance to the syncopated rhythm of our panting breaths, eyes closed to allow our bodies to feel fully, arms sinuously winding about one another, lips sealed in an endless, searing kiss. Our bodies instinctively fall into familiar cadences, responding to the other's silent signals without need for thought or will, easily, seamlessly, with perfect grace, flowing effortlessly through the subtle shadings of our mutual desire.

His lips leave mine to roam my chest, setting fireworks under my skin, blindly seeking my nipples. His hands splay on my arching back to hold me close as his mouth closes on the hardened nub of my left nipple, sucking hard on it in time with the motion of our hips. Pleasure flows like electricity between nipple and groin, internal muscles fluttering and clenching, drawing a low keening moan from him as he thrusts deeply into me. 

"Again." I say, breathlessly, my hands flying up to hold his head to my chest, and I can feel his smile against my skin before his lips kiss their way to my other nipple, repeating the sequence. Suck. Clench. Moan. Thrust. "Please, don't stop." Suck. Clench. Moan. Thrust. "Oh, god. Harder." Suck...

My heel digs into his lower back, trying to gain some leverage as I curl into him, losing all sense of time in the exquisite, breathtaking pleasure he draws from me. Every fibre of my body comes alive for him until there is nothing else, until I'm nothing but synapses firing wildly, nothing but chemical messengers of pleasure coursing through my veins. Stripped bare, distilled to the pure essence of my love for him.

Once again I'm flying, floatsam in the blissful tide of sensation, pressure building up at the base of my spine with every thrust, every stroke of gentle fingers on fevered skin, every brush of lips, every sublime degree of friction my aching, weeping cock is subjected to between our straining bellies.

"Please." I beg him, my hands clutching at his face, my mouth greedy on his, even as I try to get him deeper into me. I'm not sure what I'm begging for. My body wants release, but I don't want to let go, I want to hang on to the bright, blinding, searing light that fills me. He knows me better than I know myself; holding tighter, thrusting deeper, he answers, "No. We're not done yet."

Head flung back, I scream, tendons cording in my neck and hands clenching on his shoulders. No, he's not done yet. Unbearable pleasure mounts with his relentless thrusts, the muscles in his thighs and his arse flexing smoothly under me as he drives us into rapturous oblivion.

I babble incoherently, 'please', 'no', 'stop', 'love', 'god', 'yes', 'fuck', 'more', falling indiscriminately from my lips as I thrash in his arms in a fever of lust. I am beyond pleasure, beyond pain, the white noise of gathering orgasm surrounding me like a fog. His voice reaches me from afar, "Now. Come with me, my love." and I gratefully surrender to his command.

The coil that has been slowly winding tighter and tighter inside me lets go in a conflagration of heat and pleasure that sears me to my core. Reverently whispering his name, I clench around him, sucking him deeper into me, his cry raw and primal, and he tightens his body around me, in me, his mouth attacking mine in a hungry, possessive, all consuming kiss. My body curls in on itself, muscles flexing and releasing uncontrollably in ecstatic spasms that make our bellies slick with my come as he thrusts one last time and, throbbing, empties himself inside me. 

Our bodies stop their frenzied motion, only the involuntary twitches of orgasm's aftershocks interrupting our bliss-induced coma, but our lips remain joined, moving together slowly in a long, languorous, tender kiss, broken only by brief panted breaths. Basking in the aftermath of our love, our lips smile softly while we kiss, eyes bright with satiated contentment behind closed lids.

My impatient body recovers first, my restless twitching disturbing the quiet, and he takes it as his cue to slowly withdraw from me, making us both hiss as sensitised flesh makes its displeasure known. "Sorry." I whisper against his lips at his muffled chuckle, and his arms tighten around me. "Nah. 's cute." he answers with a smile once he's recovered his breath, tucking a long, sweat soaked strand of hair behind my ear as I frown at him, "Don't pout, love," he says softly, without a shade of irony, "it's part of who you are, and I love all of you."

With a sigh, I close my eyes and wrap my arms around his neck, resting my forehead in the crook of his neck. "I love you." I say shyly against his skin, "I love you so much it hurts." I swallow loudly, and force myself to continue, "It scares me." He kisses my forehead, fingers combing soothingly through my hair, "I know, my love." his voice is gentle, but full of confident reassurance, "I'm not going anywhere. I am yours." 

He lets a moment go by, his love radiating in waves off his skin, and I can almost hear the gears in his brain turning as he tries to find a way to get through to me. "Trust is a funny thing," he finally says, a pensive note tinting his tone, "when it is broken, sometimes it leaves a scar." I listen to his steady heartbeat while he pauses, my fingers idly playing with his chest hair as I try to make sense of what he's trying to tell me.

"I think it's that scar, here," he goes on, placing his hand on my heart, "that hurts. You love me, and trust me, but this," his hand presses in, "is driving your fear. Your nightmares." I whimper and cling to him, just a passing mention conjuring their darkness. "I'm sorry." he whispers against my hair, his hands gentle on me, rubbing soothing circles on my back. 

He waits until my breath steadies again before he continues, his voice taking on a new intensity as he says, fingertips scratching lightly at my scalp, "Look at me." I look up, meeting his steady eyes with mine, his expression taking my breath away. Taking my face in his hands, he says slowly, "I know you already know this, but I'm going to say it again just this once, yeah?" 

I nod shallowly in the grip of his hands, eyes wide and lips parted, and, with a firm nod of his own, he gets on with it. "I love you. More than a human being should be allowed to love another. I will always love you, because you have managed to burrow under my skin until you are a part of me, and I could no more stop loving you than stop being who I am." I try to speak, but his lips seal mine, "No. I'm not done," he says firmly, "wait until I'm done."

I can't find my voice, so I just nod again, and his eyes soften as he smiles at me, kissing me again, but their intensity returns when he picks up the thread, "I will never leave you," a brief flash of pain crosses his face as he hesitates, but he keeps going, his voice quiet, "unless you ask me to, unless you no longer want me in your life." I close my eyes tight and shake my head, my hands covering his, my lips mouthing 'no' over and over.

His lips on my forehead stop me, "Shhh. Shhhhh, love, don't fret. I know." Resting his forehead on mine, he kisses my lips, whispering, "Just a bit more. Hear me out, please." My eyes open to be greeted by love, pure and simple, shining in his, "I will never betray you."

He stops, and I can tell he's bracing himself to say whatever is to come next, "I could never betray you, because it would kill me to see the pain I see in your eyes when I wake you from your nightmares and know I had put it there. I am not him." My eyes fill with tears, realising that it is I who has been causing him pain, but he's not done, not yet. Taking a deep breath, he repeats, softly, "I'm not him."

Tears running down my face, I launch myself at him, wrapping my body around his, whispering, "I'm sorry." until I run out of air, frantically trying to atone for my inadvertent, self-involved cruelty. And instead of pushing me away, he holds me to him as though I'm made of spun glass, his hands patiently stroking me until I raise my head to look at him again.

Eyes still blurry with tears, I tentatively touch his face, putting all my love for him, all my hopes, all that I am, in my eyes, in my touch, in my voice, as I start to speak. "No. You are not him. You could never be him. You are true, and honest, and loyal and loving. The most wonderful man—person—I've ever known, and every day I wake up next to you I wonder what I have ever done to be lucky enough to have you in my life."

His lips part to speak, and I smile a little as my fingers press across them, "No. My turn now." My hand seeks his, threading our fingers together, "I am sorry. For being a self-involved little twat. For causing you pain. For not seeing what my fear was doing to you. For not telling you that your love is the most precious, the most cherished thing that I have. That I love you with all that I am, wholly, unconditionally, without question."

I bring our joined hands to my lips, and my eyes flutter closed as I kiss his knuckles. When they open again, he is looking at me as if he's never seen me before, and I wince a little as I continue, "This fear, the nightmares..." my voice breaks, and I take a deep breath to steady me, "...I'm not afraid of betrayal. I'm afraid that I'm not good enough for you. That somehow I'll disappoint you, drive you away." 

I bury my face in his chest, unable to look at him, before I go on in a small, pitiful voice, "In my nightmares, I am the one who betrays you. It is the pain and heartache in your eyes when you find out that makes me wake up screaming."

For a few heartbeats, a startled silence reigns, and I burrow deeper, squirming in mortified embarrassment, only to be brought out of it by a deep shaking rumble. Unbelieving, I push myself up, looking incredulously at him as his belly laugh echoes through the room. Suddenly, I find myself on my back, with his laughing face hovering over me, his lips raining kisses indiscriminately on any patch of skin they can reach.

Ok, not the reaction I expected. Confused, I frown at him, "What's so funny?” With a final, smacking kiss to my lips, he rolls off me to lay on his side, propping himself on his elbow so he can look at me, "We are the two single stupidest people on earth." he says, still laughing weakly. I narrow my eyes at him, but that only sets him laughing again, plopping on his back in a fit of giggles. 

There's a dangerous edge to my voice as I carefully enunciate, "Enlighten me." but instead of stopping, he pulls me up on top of him and, holding onto my face, kisses me stupid. By the time he lets me go, I couldn't even tell you my own name, let alone what I was getting pissy about, as I flop on his chest with a sigh, but he does enlighten me anyway. 

"Here we are, tweedledum and tweedledumer," he stops with a chuckle, and I can't help but giggle with him, "you worrying that you are not good enough for me, that you're going to do a number on me, you idiot man, and me worrying that you think I'm going to do a number on you. I swear to god, we couldn't be any more stupid if we tried." 

He cranes his neck to look at me, "What happened to talking? When did we become these people who do not talk to one another?" I look sheepishly back at him, "Dunno." His fingers hook under my chin, and he brings his lips to mine for a brief kiss, smiling warmly at me, "Well, I'm glad I opened my big mouth, even if I made a right prat of myself." 

I kiss him back fiercely, growling against his lips, "You're not a prat." and going on before he can respond, "What you said..." I try to continue, but there is that lump in my throat again, and I can't choke the words past it. "I meant every word of it, love." he says softly, "You are my life."

I rest my head on his chest again, a small smile on my face, "I know." I say sleepily, placing my hand over his heart, "I promise, I won't lock you out again. I'm sorry." His lips brush my forehead, his voice quiet as he answers, "And I won't make assumptions without talking to you about what's going on, deal?" I nod, "Deal."

That out of the way, he rearranges us into our usual sleep pattern, on our sides, his chest flush against my back as he spoons me, his body protectively curled around mine. "Night, my love, sweet dreams." he whispers against the back of my neck as his arms cover mine. "Night." I answer, snuggling back into his warmth, "Love you."

For a few moments, only our slowing breath and the light sounds of fabric on skin as we settle under the covers reign in the quiet room, but I can't resist asking the question, "Are you tweedledumb or tweedledumber?"

I fall asleep with his quiet laughter against my skin, secure in the knowledge that, for the first time in months, my sleep will not be disturbed by nightmares.


End file.
